The room was dark.
For a time that was all she was conscious of.
She was in a dark room.
Awareness increased slowly.
There was a table in front of her, that she was sitting at. There was something on the table. Cards. A deck of cards on the table.
And… she wasn't the only one.
There were others at the table.
One man, two girls and… a shadow, seeming to be waking up like she was.
The man suddenly jumped up, slamming his hands on the table.
"What the hell is going on," he demanded. "Where are we? And what exactly are you," he demanded of the shadow, pointing an angry finger at it in an unnecessarily confrontational manner.
The shadow had reached forward and picked up the deck, shuffling the cards slowly.
"Me," they asked, giving the impression of a raised eyebrow. "Well, I guess you can call me the dealer."
One of the girls, a blonde who looked like an Empire poster girl, jumped up as well.
"Why should we play along, rather than get ourselves out?"
The dealer shrugged.
"Be my guest to try."
The girl turned from the table, ignoring what else the dealer might have had to say. She tried to run, but it was as though the floor was perfectly smooth.
No matter how fast she tried to run she didn't budge an inch.
"If you're done, maybe we can get to the cards."
The dealers comment was entirely reasonable as far as she was concerned, but the blonde didn't seem to agree.
She glared at the dealer as she returned to her seat.
"Then let's get started."
The dealers hands moved quickly, a card appearing face down in front of each of them, the greying man, the brunette, her, the blonde and a final card in front of the dealer.
There was a pause, then the dealer set the deck on the table.
"What kind of game is this? How do we play with a single card?"
She ignored the complaints of the blonde, and turned her card over.
Ten of Swords.
It wasn't a plain card, just showing its value like she was used to.
Instead it bore an image, like a conventional face card.
A familiar image, of the docks the city had grown around.
The image felt… real, in some undefinable manner, as though it should be possible to hear the waves, feel the spray from the sea, smell its unmistakeable scent.
There was a startled sound from the man, and she turned to see him holding the Jack of Pentacles, the image showing an unfamiliar woman.
She glanced at the others, the girls had received a King and Queen, and were staring at the people displayed on them.
The dealer had received the Ace of Pentacles, which showed a vaguely familiar young man as its image.
"Well, we've got the cards," the blonde stated. "What now?"
Things went black.
{}
Taylor blinked her way awake, vague memories of a dream slipping from her grasp.
There was something… about a sword?
Or were there ten?
"Taylor! You're awake," a familiar voice cried from next to her, prompting her to turn her head to see them.
"D-dad," she croaked out, throat feeling raw.
"It's going to be alright. Do you remember what happened?"
She tried to think back, but it was a blank.
Like the corridors of the hospital.
A blank, sterile white, filled with the vague shapes of people and objects.
"It was the museum," he told her. "A school trip. I didn't even know Winslow did them."
Winslow.
The name send a wave of emotion through her.
Fear. Rage. Confusion.
"Then… there was a fight. The gangs. Something about testing the new bomb Tinkers gear against the Empire. They weren't near the museum at first, but one of them retreated, the other followed, the museum got caught up in it all. The things those bombs did… some of your classmates are dead, a lot more are in comas. They don't think everyone will wake up…"
Taylor tried to muster up some kind of emotion about her classmates, but failed.
She had been targeted by people since she started, bullied for no more reason than that the freshmen popular girl decided she wanted to, and nobody had stood up for her.
The most she got from them was a level of apathy, a lack of good or bad.
That brought something up.
A vague wish that he wasn't one of the dead.
What was his name?
Darth..?
"They're already calling it the 'museum massacre'," her dad continued. "Calling for reinforcements to stamp out the gangs, but…"
He broke down further.
"I just couldn't bear it if I lost you. Not after Annette."
Taylor carefully reached out, placing her hand on his.
It was the most comfort she could give right now.
{}
"Do I have your permission to heal you," a strangely apathetic voice asked, the sound of someone who has had it with the current day and just wants to rest.
"Y-yes," Taylor managed, throat still too rough to speal normally.
The girl who entered, Pan… something her brain supplied, stepped forward, nudged her dad aside from where he seemed to be falling asleep and touched her hand.
A fly had landed on her shoulder, Taylor distantly noted.
"Feels like a dehydration bomb," the Cape diagnosed in the tone of someone who no longer cares what people think of them. "Just caught the edge of it, so there's still water to deal with, plus the IV… that should be your throat… broken leg and shrapnel… plenty of minor damage… oh and I think that's a concussion," she finished, taking her hand away. "I don't do brains, so that will have to heal the long way."
She turned to leave.
"Thank… you," Taylor forced out through a sudden weariness. "P-Pan… Pan…"
The rest of the name still wouldn't come.
"You don't get to call me that," the healer snapped over her shoulder.
"Pan… gaea? Pan… ache?"
Taylor kept trying, striving for the right name.
Something about it didn't feel right somehow, not using the right name.
"Panacea," the girl corrected, grimacing slightly. "Sorry, I thought…" she sighed. "You should recover fully in time. The brain is highly elastic. I just… don't like being called 'Panpan'," she finished with a stronger grimace.
Taylor didn't have much means to respond, so she simply watched Panacea leave the room, walking along to the next and approaching a shape with a yellow colour at one end, blurring more and more as she moved away.
She let her eyes close, exhausted by even a day as short as this one had been.
{}
They sat around the table again, but this time Taylor could remember a little from before.
There were the same people as before, an aging man, two girls and the dealer, who was already shuffling the pack.
"You're back," the dealer stated. "Shall I proceed to the deal?"
"What the hell is going on here," the man demanded. "I was just in hospital, they said something about how I might lose my leg and were putting me under for surgery, and now I'm here?"
"I… think this is a dream. Or something like it," Taylor suggested. "I mean, I was in hospital too until I fell asleep."
"Except if this was a dream, it would be mine, as I'm the one dreaming, and you would be just a figment of my imagination," the blonde argued.
"She means it's a communal dream, dumbass," the other girl suggested. This time round Taylor could see that her hair was tending more towards black than brunette. She also thought the girl looked vaguely Asian, though she wouldn't put money on it. "Though why I'd be stuck sharing a dream with you is beyond me."
Her eyes twitched when she'd finished, but Taylor couldn't say where she was looking.
"So we're dreaming together," the blonde accepted. "And I guess the cards got us out last time, so…"
"Right, deal us in," the other girl asked the dealer in a more aggressive manner than Taylor felt warranted.
The dealer stopped shuffling, and flicked cards to each of them.
This time it was the Jack of Cups, depicting an unfamiliar girl with dyed green hair waving at her with a smile.
Taylor could just about make out a vehicle in the background, but no details.
She glanced at everyone else's cards.
The man had the King of Wands, depicting an Asian gentleman, while the blonde had received the Ten of Pentacles, depicting the façade of a building, and the other girl had the Ten of Cups, depicting the Medhall building.
The Dealer had the King of Swords, on which was the unmistakable likeness of Danny Hebert.
Her father.
"D-"
{}
"-ad!"
Taylor jerked forward as the cry left her lips.
"Taylor!"
Her dad was next to her, already wrapping his arms around her to comfort her. "What's wrong?"
"I… don't know," Taylor whispered.
Whatever had driven her to call out, she couldn't remember it.
He squeezed her tighter.
"It's alright. They want to keep you in for observation for a few more days, then I can take you home. And you won't even have to go to school for a few weeks," he added, trying for a touch of levity.
Taylor felt relief flow through her.
She couldn't recall precisely what had happened there, but something within her rebelled at the thought of going back.
"Miss Hebert," a soft voice asked.
She looked round, to see a nurse stepping into the room.
"Oh, mister Hebert," she said, in apparent surprise at his presence. "I'm sorry, but I have some tests for your daughter, and hospital policies require you to leave the room."
"What sort of tests?"
"Just simple things, to make sure there won't be lasting complications from the concussion. Oh no need to worry, it's nothing invasive, just some questions."
Taylor pulled back slightly, squeezing her fathers hand.
He accepted the message, and stepped away.
"If you need anything-"
"Don't worry, mister Hebert," the nurse laughed, "this is entirely routine. A couple of minutes tops, then you can come back in."
He hesitated before leaving.
Taylor wished she could do something to reassure him that it would be alright, something like the way he had drawn her into a hug.
A spider dropped from the doorframe onto his back as he stepped through, letting the nurse close the door.
"Okay, time to get started," the nurse stated brightly, drawing Taylors attention from her dad as he found a chair and sat next to the door. "First…"
{}
"Alright, everything seems to be normal," the nurse noted as she finished her questions. "One last thing, the PRT want us to remind everyone that you can go to them if you think you got powers. Now I can leave and let your father back in, alright?"
Taylor nodded slowly, connections forming in her head.
She hadn't really thought about the possibility of having powers until the nurse mentioned it, the idea of people getting powers somehow not there despite remembering that Panacea had them.
And what was the point of walls if you could keep track of people through them?
The nurse had determined that her reasoning ability was more or less intact, it was just her memories that were struggling. And with them, her understanding of what was normal.
So she most likely had some kind of powers, and just needed to figure out what they were.
{}
The days passed with Taylor trying to figure out what her powers might be.
Each night there was a dream she could not recall when awake.
The first clue to her powers was the way she could track people with insects on them, up to a maximum range.
At first she thought it was simply people she saw, or who made contact with her, but slowly became aware that the connection was people who had insects land upon them.
It didn't help that the strength of her power seemed to grow and wane without reason from one day to the next.
By the time she was released she was confident about the nature of her powers.
She had a level of awareness of insects near her, plus a varying power to direct them. And if they landed on someone, she remained aware of that persons presence, somewhat as though they were one of her insects.
The difference was she couldn't influence them.
At least, it didn't work the one time she tried.
Still, she had an idea of what her powers were, and had finally come home, getting a chance to sleep in her own bed again…
AN: At this point I'm really giving up on my plan to limit how many ideas I'm writing at a time aren't I?
In any case, I was somewhat inspired by comments from people about the lack of good Cluster fics (probably quite a dated comment, but still).
As it can be confusing to piece together the changes to canon when they aren't specified upfront (such as being a few chapters in when someone mentions the reason Jack Slash went to the Birdcage in a wheelchair) I will mention the differences here where people can avoid it if they wish.
Sophias handler made it clear that she couldn't do anything too egregious, and let the reports of minor misbehaviour (matching the Ward reports) go through. This means the Locker never happened, and Blackwell went to Piggott for funding for school trips for fairness about the Ward situations (pocketing extra of course), something she was only willing to do because of having 'nothing' to hide.
Without the interference of a new hero Lung had Bakuda preparing her Tech for his actual plan, an engagement with the Empire that came out at the same time as the museum trip.
And one of those random little changes that occur to the side was Panacea experimenting with stem cells for brain damage (letting the brain heal itself rather than do anything herself) and 'healing' the physiological symptoms of addiction, doing damage to the Merchants. The cause of this change being from Victoria mentioning competent studies on Parahumans, leading to Panacea realising she needed to do more with her powers (while still keeping to her rules). And then Victoria got caught in the incident and was left uconscious, hence Panacea being so touchy about 'Panpan'.